Thursday, October 08, 2015

My
3 year old has discovered the joy that is Speed Racer. Every morning
when he has breakfast he starts asking for it. So I put in the DVD and
Speed appears.

I
was a big fan when I was younger. Then in college I got a job doing
security at an empty building that had cable. I discovered it again on
MTV late at night. I never missed it.

When
the Fast and Furious Franchise came out I watched all of them. The
acting was terrible, the driving was hilarious, the stunts were against
the laws of physics, but I watched them all. It was basically a live action cartoon.

Speed
was the ultimate good guy. He respected his parents. He obeyed the law.
He never risked the lives of others. Even when he was racing he never
cheated, never drove recklessly, and never gave up. He
worked for the police. He fought evil and corruption. He was true to
his girl, Trixie. He was never mean to his little brother no matter how
much trouble he got in.

In
short he was the complete opposite of members of the Fast and Furious
gang. They were criminals. They stole. They cheated. They fought the
police. They were unnecessarily cruel to others. They were completely
reckless when they raced, drove, or did anything else. They were bad
guys pure and simple. They destroyed most of a village in some foreign
country by driving through it. And yet somehow we are supposed to root
for them.

I
really don't know if there is a cartoon contemporary of the Speed Racer
series. However, the juxtaposition of the two shows is a view into the
problems we face in this country as a whole.

We
no longer root for the good guy. Cops are the enemy. Good is bad, and
bad is good. Laws are to be broken. No ones life matters but your own.
And the end justifies the means. Do what you want, when you want, the
way you want, and don't worry about the consequences. You are entitled
to whatever you think you deserve – whether you do or not.

Having the approval of those around you is the supreme justification for your actions – not right and wrong.

With
this attitude we have a generation of sub humans who are so self
centered they can justify murder. A police officer can, while clearly in
the right, shoot a criminal who is committing a crime, and it is the
officers fault because the criminal was a “good boy.”

When the word good looses all meaning the word evil does too. When evil looses its meaning then it becomes the norm.

We
have websites making celebrities of people who are committing crimes. If
you can get the most violent activity possible you can have the top
rated video. If you have the most vile language and gore you are a shoe
if for the top spot.

We
have turned our backs on all that is good and become enamored with
evil. It is a complete reversal of the way things should be.

F&F
drivers can steal, lie, cheat, kill, and destroy – and they are the heroes. Someone as clean cut as Speed Racer would be laughed at and
scoffed.

But
I really believe that Speed Racer would shrug it off. He is made of
sterner stuff than having to have the approval of others. He would take
Trixie, rev up the Mach 5, and speed away. A man who is right and knows
it doesn't need a pat on the back from everyone – he knows what he
stands for.

Like I said, we need more Speed Racer and less, much less, Fast and Furious.

Monday, March 16, 2015

Today, boys and girls, Uncle Willie is
going to introduce you to a new term – Frontgating. “What is
that?” you say. Well allow me to explain.

I have prepared visual aids (Don't
worry my doctor said they are not contagious).

Everyone knows that tailgating is when
you , or someone else, drives too close to the back of another
vehicle. This is a bad thing. Most states have a law that states that
for every 10 miles an hour there should be one car length between
you. They sometimes state it in terms of seconds, but I like the
length rule. For example if you are going 10 MPH you should be 1 car
length away from the car in front of you. At 20 mph- 2 car lengths
and etc. At 100 MPH you should be on a racetrack or the Autobahn not
a US highway.

However, frontgating is when someone,
hopefully you are smart enough to not do this, swerves in front of
you within inches of your bumper.

For example: I am driving down the
interstate. I drive an 8 – 14k pound truck depending on what I am
towing. I am in the right hand lane doing the speed limit. In the
left hand lane is a wall of 80,000 pound semi trucks. Idiot driver
comes down the on ramp matches my speed right beside my truck. IN
front of me is 5 car lengths, behind me is 40 miles of clear lane.
Idiot driver speeds up, swerves in front of my truck, and takes a
layer of chrome off the bumper, then slows down. Idiot driver is
frontgating. IT should be legal to slam into Frontgater and push him
into the trees.

Another example: I am in said 8-14k
pound vehicle on a 4 lane road (it doesn't matter which lane I am
in). I am approaching a stop light. In front of me is enough room for
me to stop and not spill my coffee and a bus load of orphan kindergarten kitten nuns (OKKN). Behind me there is enough room for a
747 to land. Idiot driver in the other lane traveling the same
direction as I am roars up beside me, sees the opening between me and
the bus full of OKKN and swerves in front me me causing me to lock up
the brakes, spill my coffee on the windshield, and then stops short
of the OKKN. It should be legal to exit my vehicle and empty my
thermos full of scalding hot coffee on the heads of these
frontgaters.

(I just noticed I left the Justice off the last frame)

Yet another example: I am piloting aforementioned large heavy truck on a 2 lane road. Ahead there is a
side road intersection with a stop sign. As I approach at the speed
limit (55 mph) I see a vehilce - usually an older luxury type
automobile driven by someone who came of voting age during WWI or any
aged person with a cell phone stuck to their head - approach the
stop sign, almost stop, then slowwwwwwwwwly pull our right in front
of my truck. As I leave skid marks on the blacktop, and my jockeys,
they accelerate to approximately 1/3 of the speed limit and stay
there. They pay no attention to the loud horn on my truck or the
multiple tires on the truck and trailer attempting to peel the
pavement up. These Frontgaters should be beaten with a stop sign
until they understand the error of their ways.

Then there is one more class of
Frontgater. He is more dangerous than the rest. I am driving the leviathan down the interstate. There is one of those super long on
and off ramps to the left that is about a mile and a half long. On
this on/off ramps there is a car – usually already wrecked,
undoubtedly uninsured, meandering along, is a driver who does not
know what mirrors are for. Nor is he capable of turning his head. He
trots down the lane and gets almost in front of my truck and changes
lanes. When my horn sounds ( and at that point his head is about even
with it) he swerves back into his lane, accelerates slightly, then
pulls out again with only the sound waves from the horn separating us
– and slows down. It should be legal to run this Frontgater over,
take his wallet and any loose change from his car, set the car on
fire, and take his pants.

What brings these things to light. Well
today I had to drive to Charlotte. Fortunately we did not have the
trailer so I was right at 8000 pounds. Every single one of those
examples happened during the trip.

I have a set of 150db air horns in the
shop. This week they are going on the truck. Along with possibly a
pneumatic ram to swat the Frontgaters off the earth.

Disclaimer:Uncle Willie does not
condone road rage violence to be used in the instance of encountering
a frontgater. This blog isin no means a legal document. If you attack
a frontgater – no matter how satisfying it may be – you will be
arrested and put in a jail cell with a guy named bubba who things you
have a pretty smile. This goes for women too. Drive safely – don't
be a frontgater!

Friday, October 24, 2014

I had a music instructor that once told
me that people have too much noise in their lives. Everywhere is a
TV, radio, or phone begging for our attention. He was right.

I firmly believe that people have lost
the ability to be quiet. They have lost the ability to sit with
themselves and think.

I like the radio. I have one in my
truck, but when I am by myself I rarely have it on. I would rather
think while I drive.

These thoughts went through my head
while I had the bittersweet joy of mowing the front yard for the last
time this season. Mowing has always been my time. Time to be left
alone. Time to think. Time to sing old songs and mangle the words
with no one to laugh.

I have always enjoyed mowing. I think I
spent most of my teenaged years behind one mower or another. I mowed
about 10 yards a week. Not for the money, although the root beer and
snickers fund was nice, but for the time alone.

For several hours a week my companion
was a single cylinder push mower, the grass, and the fresh air. As I
have gotten older my weapon of choice has moved up to a twin cylinder
riding mower. It seems that my back doesn't like a push mower much
now.

As I rode around in circles I was
thinking to years ago when I would put on my tennis shoes, grab a gas
can, my mower, and a ballcap, and head off across the neighborhood to
mow yards. It was hard work. Our neighborhood was anything but flat,
but I enjoyed it.

My dad always told everyone that I
hated mowing. I didn't tell him I liked it for fear he would have
found a way to make it harder. Maybe barefooted carrying weights. So
I kept my enjoy met to myself, and somethow that made it more
enjoyable. And made the time to think sweeter.

Today everyone has a personal
entertainment system attached to their hips in the form of the
smartphone. They have wires hanging from their ears that drain their
brain. They cannot think. They have to be entertained.

To be honest I had a Walkman. And I
listened to it, but not when I mowed.

As I pushed the mower around with its
blade slicing through the grass, turning the tangled green blades
into a smooth carpet, I could think. I was left alone.

If a child now has to mow a yard it is
inhumane and social services gets called. If a child has to sit in
silence they will explode. But to me it is one of life's little
pleasures.

I recently made 3 trips to Mississippi.
600 miles one way. For the majority of that time the radio was off.
The engine was entertaining enough. As the miles slipped under my
tires I relaxed. I thought. I worked over problems. I came up with
answers. I was alone with myself.

So take some advice from someone who
enjoys the silence. Turn off the TV, turn down the radio, unhook the
headset, and enjoy the time alone. It will be uncomfortable at first.
You will hate the silence, but after a while your brain will engage
and you can think.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

It is pouring rain so I am in the house
today. I don't feel like wading through the yard to do anything out
there.

Recently my wife had been gone a good
bit. She is taking special education teaching classes and is at the
point where she is doing an internship at a local school. So on
Mondays and Thursdays she is gone from 7:30 – 3:30 and on Tuesdays
(today) she is gone from 7:30-9:00 pm. I am not complaining because
it gives me lots of quality time with Heath – the 2 year old.

Heath is a unique child. I know every
parent says that about their kids, but everyone says it about Heath.
He likes to be by himself. When he is around other kids he finds his
own place to play. And he is completely independent. I think if he
could open the pantry and reach the peanut butter he wouldn't need us
at all.

Today we went in the front bathroom to
tend to the ducks (you don't keep 10 ducklings in your bathtub?) and
Heath materialized behind me with two slices of bread. I have no idea
where they came from. But after I filled the tub with water we fed it
to the ducks. When I went in the kitchen the loaf of bread on the
counter was still closed up. I honestly think the kid has a stash of
food hidden somewhere.

A short time later I heard a sound and
went to check on him. He had poured some fruit loops out on the floor
and was eating them like a cat. I have no idea how he got the bag of
cereal. Maybe it came out of his stash.

After the ducks had their 20 minutes of
swim time I drained the tub. Heath didn't bring any food. He did help
me get the water bowl back in the tub and fill the food dish. I think
he would sleep in the tub with the ducks if I would let him.

A short time ago he found a pair of 3D
glasses that we got out of a junk car yesterday. He thinks they are
cool.

Finally I get a break – he went down
for a nap. Maybe I will have time to put on some pants. I have been
chasing him around in my bathrobe all morning.

Or maybe not. Just as I was looking for
the publish button I heard a thud followed closely by a scream. Heath
had climbed out on the bookshelf next to his crib and fallen off. He
injured his pride, but is fine otherwise. I may need to hold off on
the pants till he is actually asleep.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

I have no clue if anyone even reads my blog anymore. I only had two regular readers and I think they are both locked in an asylum now.

Life has been interesting in the last 4 or so years.
I have bought a new truck, sold both my old ones, had a child (well not actually me but my wife did – I helped) he is now 2, accumulated new friends, bought a ton of tools, and got into old garden tractors.

Today I spent my time outside in my workshop cleaning up the mess.

In the past few months I have bought 2 large toolboxes full of miscellaneous (spelling that word is the only thing I remember from accounting class in high school) tools and they were dumped into a pile in the floor.

After pushing the 80? Craftsman riding mower, that has been in my way for a year, out into the cold windy world I got busy cleaning. I have no idea how many screwdrivers I have now, but I think I could start a store selling them and become rich.
After sorting through that pile I got sidetracked and started playing online on the shop computer.

While I was playing I found this blog again.
So I will update it periodically. And someone may actually read it.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

1. Send all the reporters home. They aren't in America and they have no constitutional rights in a foreign country. If they want to stay there is no protection provided by the military. They are on their own.

2. If you shoot at our military you will die. So will the person standing on either side of you and the one behind you. If someone near you starts shooting at our troops you had better be moving for cover.

3. If you hide in a building to shoot at our military expect the entire building to be leveled. If you are a civilian and didn't shoot you had better hit the ground running or your dead. It doesn't matter what kind of building you are in. Church, school, mosque there is no where to hide.

4. This is a war. People get killed. Things get blown up. It is a dirty, stinking, rotten business and from time to time it must be done to keep the world safe enough to live in. War is hell – there is a reason people say that, there is nothing nice about it.

5.You have the right to complain, bad mouth, resent, protest, or otherwise dislike war, and that right will not be trampled on. But don't be surprised when your whining, sniveling, cowardly butt is scooped up in the middle of the night and dropped off in the war zone for a few days.

6. If you don't like this country, feel free to leave. We will even help you pack.